Su Pequeño Asesino
by SplatDragon
Summary: Horley had only asked him to help her once. But she came back again, and again, and again, and he couldn't turn her away. She was his little killer, after all.


There was somebody in his cabin.

Flaco raised his eyebrows, looking at the black Saddler hitched to one of the trees by the door. Just how long had it taken him to piss? Long enough, apparently, for someone to ride up the hill, across the lake, hitch their horse, and go inside. All without him noticing.

That was, he had to admit, rather impressive.

Not many people dared to come up to The Grizzlies, and he couldn't blame them. It was insufferably cold, the weather temperamental and liable to change in minutes. It felt as though he couldn't go a month without finding some dumb bastard who had tried his luck and froze to death. There was a homestead a few miles up, a couple who had struck out on their own. They were fools, he thought, but a year in and they were still alive. So, bounty hunter? Or lost traveler?

Either way, one could not be too careful, especially in his line of work. So he finished buttoning his pants and drew his gun, approaching the door after giving the gelding a pat on the ass. The horse snorted, and bobbed its head, wholly apathetic to anything. Well, that answered nothing. If it had been hot-tempered, trying to kick or bite him, he would have thought 'bounty hunter', but he had met plenty of bounty hunters who had horses that were only truly useful as dog food.

He checked the safety of his gun, flicking it off, before pushing the door open with a grunt. The person inside twisted to face him, but he was faster, and they stilled the moment the barrel of his gun entered their eyesight, gloved hands coming up beside their head in a show of surrender.

"What you want?" he hissed, taking them in. Wild black hair, stark green eyes. Lean in a way that spoke of too few meals, with a familiar harsh glint to her eyes that spoke of hard living. "You just standing there, looking pretty." She shifted her weight, fingers twitching, clearly wanting to reach for her gun but not nearly foolish enough to do so. "You gonna introduce yourself? EH‽" the woman flinched at his sudden bark, and he swallowed a grin.

He still had it.

Swallowing, she offered "Anya," her voice little more than a soft, low rasp that he had to strain to hear. Slowly, he turned and walked away, finding no threat in her, and allowed his gun to drop, the woman slowly lowering her hands.

He recognized the name—Horley had sent him a letter, asking him to help out any of the folks they had busted out of prison if he happened on them. (He owed Horley a favor, long story) And her name was rare, even without a last name, so he recognized it, "You're one of those cabrones, got bust out of prison, come to Flaco looking for work!" he grinned. Well, Horley had asked him to help _one_ of them, and so here was his one! This was his lucky day, he supposed—he hated owing favors, and now he didn't have one hanging over his head anymore. _And_, he would admit, she was attractive, in the rough way of an outlaw. "Okay," he had no complaints, one didn't get to see a pretty woman often up in these mountains, "But can I trust you?"

The woman tilted her head, and he could all-but see the cogs working behind her eyes, trying to figure out how to convince him of her trustworthiness. But he was glad that she hadn't immediately said "You can trust me!", those were the people you should trust the least, and he already didn't trust her at all. "How do I know you're not a…" Flaco trailed off, pretending to look for the word, "How do you say," purring "una rata?"

Whipping his gun up, he fired wildly at her feet, laughing as she danced, careful not to actually hit her. He _did_ need her in working shape, after all, and a shot foot would put a quick end to the work she could do for him.

She glowered at him, and he grinned, deciding to offer her some advice, from one vigilante to another. "Stay on your toes, eh. I made you jump." If she let her guard down like she had, she would be dead in weeks.

Flaco felt he had had his fun, and didn't want to push his luck, "You have people vouching for you," and she looked startled, had Horley told her nothing? So she had found his cabin by chance, he found that interesting, "So I'll give you a chance."

This was a good opportunity to get rid of those Bounty hunters, besides. "You find these people been causing me trouble 'round Lake Isabella, maybe we get on okay." If _she_ killed _them_, then he had found a valuable asset. If _they_ killed _her_, then he'd weeded out a weak outlaw who would only cause trouble in the end.


End file.
